January 2, 2015

Hyde Wyndham and I planned to have a baby together, a little girl with his honey-brown eyes or maybe a little boy with his warm caramel skin.

“She could be blonde, Kipp,” Hyde murmured against my own blond hair. “He could have blue eyes, just like yours.”

Or green eyes. Hyde’s mom had green eyes.

Before we’d left on our honeymoon in Fiji, the doctors had taken samples of our sperm and had done a little gene manipulating, replacing the egg’s DNA with mine so this baby would be made from both our genetic material. After all, it was 2017, and things like that were becoming commonplace. Besides, my husband was a billionaire businessman who could have it done with the snap of his fingers.

As soon as we’d returned to Martinsburg from our honeymoon on the island of Biru Atimu—the island he’d bought for me—we’d given the go-ahead for the embryo to be implanted in our surrogate and then sat back to wait for the results. Even with all his money, Hyde couldn’t rush nature.

But we needed that information as soon as we could get it. Granddad wasn’t doing well, and while his doctors informed us he wouldn’t last to see our son or daughter, I wanted him to know he was going to be a great-grandfather.

**

Hyde returned to the suite of rooms he kept at the Saratoga Trunk, the most exclusive hotel in Martinsburg, PA. I’d been working on the plans for the Martha’s Vineyard commission I’d received from a noted film director, and I jumped up to greet him.

“You look tired, love. Too tired?”

“Never too tired for my blue-eyed boy.” He dropped his briefcase and opened his arms.

“Excellent!” I wound my arms around his neck, rubbing up against him shamelessly. There had been a time I would have restrained myself for fear of driving him away, but that was in the past. After exploring his sweet mouth in a ravenous kiss—we were still newlyweds, and it was allowed—I eased his suit jacket off his shoulders and began unbuttoning his shirt. “I’ve missed you.”

“We had lunch together.” He nuzzled and nipped the tendon in my throat, and I shivered and moaned.

“Y-yes. And that was six hours ago.”

“Ah. In that case, I apologize. How can I make it up to you?”

I leaned back and looked into his honey-brown eyes, eyes that I’d fallen in love with the first time I’d gazed into them. “Suppose we practice making a baby?”

I didn’t wait for him to answer, just grabbed his hand and pulled him along after me into the bedroom.

“You know, we can’t keep living here in the Saratoga Trunk.” I’d traveled with him on business to various cities, and we still lived in hotel suites. Even when we didn’t have to travel, that was where we stayed. “We have to decide where we’re going to live. Especially once the baby is born.”

“You mean you don’t want to raise our child in a hotel?”

“Hyde! This is important!” I smacked his shoulder with the heel of my hand.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t tease.” He dropped a kiss on my nose and tugged the hem of my T-shirt—a new one I’d found that read Save Ferris—up over my head. “Do you want to stay here in Martinsburg?” He scraped the nail of his forefinger over my nipple, and it pebbled up as if pleading for more attention. That or his lips would be fine. “Before we go to Fiji again, I want you to get this nipple pierced.” His voice deepened. “You’ll do that for me, won’t you, Kipp?”

“Anything. Anything!” I whimpered, kicked off my running shoes, and went to work on my jeans. But if I didn’t get my mind off Hyde’s words, I was going to come too soon. “Could… could we live at Silver Birch?”

My grandfather’s home was enormous, having been built originally to house a huge family, and he’d given us the entire upper floor of the east wing for when we stayed in Martinsburg. “You’ll be awake anyway, so sunrise won’t bother you,” he’d told us from his bed at Promise Hospice. I didn’t want to ask what he thought we’d be doing at that hour, because yes, we probably would be awake, doing it.

“Would you mind?” I was redecorating our rooms there, and that was why we were staying at the Trunk. When I’d chosen interior design as my major, it had caused a rift between me and Granddad. He’d been afraid people would think I was gay. As it turned out, I was gay, and after Granddad’s diagnosis, he’d decided there were more important things in life than what people thought. I needed another year to get my degree, but if our surrogate became pregnant, I’d put my education on hold. And if we did make Silver Birch our home, I’d have a wall taken down and remodel the space next to the master into a nursery.

“Not in the least.” Hyde slid his broad palm past the waistband of my jeans and gripped a buttock, squeezing rhythmically. “It’s a lovely house, and you have fond memories of staying there.”

“Thank you, Hyde.” I unbuckled his belt, undid the button at his waistband, and unzipped his fly, then yanked down his trousers and shorts. His beautiful cock stood proud against his flat belly. “Oh God!” I whispered, and my mouth began to water. Hyde took his hand from my jeans and placed it on my hip to steady me, but I didn’t need to be steadied. Instead, I dropped to my knees and swallowed him. Or tried to. He was so thick and long, I had a hard time… no pun intended, thank you very much… getting more than a few inches of him past my lips. But dammit, I was going to keep trying, and one of these days….

He braced his legs apart, buried his fingers in my hair, and let me suck on the crown of his cock and probe the slit with delicate flicks of my tongue.

“Kipp!”

I slipped a finger into my mouth, not an easy task with his monster of a cock in there as well, but I had a plan. I worked up a mouthful of spit, got my finger good and wet, then eased it out and sucked harder on his cock to distract him.

“If you make me come now—” Hyde warned.

I ran my palms over the luscious curves of his muscular ass, pulled apart his cheeks, and stroked my finger over his hole.

“Kipp, I swear—” But there was a quaver in his voice, and I had no intention of stopping.

I dipped my finger in, found his prostate and rubbed, and his words became garbled. I hummed “Brown-Eyed Handsome Man,” the song I always thought of when I looked into his gorgeous honey eyes, and he groaned and gasped as spurt after spurt of hot, sweet come flooded over my tongue.

“I didn’t, did I?” I rubbed a palm over the front of my jeans, which gaped open. Sometimes the restraint Sir had insisted on paid off, although I was willing to bet he’d have been seriously aggravated to learn how I’d employed that restraint. “You’ll take care of me later, won’t you?”

“You know I will!” He urged me to my feet, tipped my chin up, and took my mouth in a kiss that would have knocked my shoes off—if I’d been wearing shoes. My knees were about to give out from under me by the time that kiss ended. He scooped me up in his arms, and I rested my head against his shoulder as he carried me into the bedroom. He’d taken my virginity on that bed on our wedding night.

“Meeting you was the best day of my life,” I murmured as I stroked his cheek.

“Deciding to marry you was the smartest thing I’ve ever done. I love you, Kipp. My God, how I love you!”

**

Unfortunately, things weren’t all sunshine, lollipops, and blowjobs.

I sat beside Granddad’s bed in his room at Promise Hospice. In an effort to ease his breathing, the nurse had raised the head of the bed to a forty-five degree angle, but he still struggled to breathe as he faded in and out of consciousness. The television was on, set to a music station, and I kept the sound down so he wouldn’t be bothered by it. Oddly enough, Buddy Holly’s version of “Brown-Eyed Handsome Man” was playing. I held Granddad’s hand and listened to the music with one ear and to his breathing with the other.

Please don’t let him die. I knew it was selfish, but I’d only gotten him back a few months ago, after a three-year estrangement.

He’d been diagnosed with metastatic colon cancer two years prior, and because it had already spread, he’d refused to agree to any treatment other than radiation therapy. His doctors fought for him, but because the prognosis was so poor, they didn’t hold out much hope.

But each time he’d had a setback, he’d followed it with a comeback.

This time, though, I knew… we all knew… it was the end. The entire family had come to say good-bye, but because the room wasn’t large enough to hold everyone, they’d left to get some coffee.

I held onto his hand, hummed along with the music, and tried to keep from weeping.

The door swung open, and Hyde strode in.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at a meeting?” I asked softly, not wanting to disturb Granddad.

“I was, but I received a voicemail from Gayla in the middle of it.”

Our surrogate? “Is everything okay?”

“Listen to this.” He played back the message.

“Hi, Mr. Wyndham. I just wanted to let you and your husband know that, in my grandmother’s parlance, the rabbit died!”

Was she…? Did that mean…? I stared at Hyde, afraid to voice my hopes.

“We’re going to be dads!”

“Yes!”

“Kipp?” For the first time in a couple of days, my grandfather’s eyes held awareness as he looked at me. He tightened his grip on my hand.

“Granddad! You’re with us again! Hyde, would you get the rest of the family? They went down to the coffee shop.”

“No need to get them, Hyde. I… I won’t be here for much longer.” He attempted to sit up straighter.

I bit my lip to keep from protesting. He’d been in so much pain, in spite of all the morphine they’d given him. It would be cruel to plead with him to stay. “Please don’t exert yourself,” I begged instead.

“I… I have to tell you this. I had the strangest dream.”

“Did you?” I petted the hand that held mine, concerned the brief moment of lucidity was gone but not willing to distress him.

“Yes. You and Hyde were about to become fathers.”

“We are. Our surrogate left a message on Hyde’s phone. She’s carrying our baby. And that means you’re going to be a great-granddad!”

“Ah. That makes me so happy.” He lay back against the pillows. “Promise… promise me one thing.”

“Anything, Granddad.” I clung to his hand.

“Name… name her Beth.”

I felt my eyes well up. After my mother? Of course we didn’t know the baby’s gender yet, but I was thrilled he’d suggested that. I turned my gaze to Hyde’s. “May we?”

“Of course. And if he’s a boy, we’ll name him after you, Bradley.”

Granddad shook his head. “Name your second child Kipp. Or Hyde. Another Bradley is superfluous.”

“Whatever you say, Granddad.” My uncle was Bradley Martin IV. “But we can always make it a middle name.”

“I held on, waiting for this moment. God bless and keep you all.” He smiled, his eyes misty. “You, Kipp, for being my beloved grandson. You, Hyde, for loving him, and both of you for my little great-granddaughter….”

And then he closed his eyes, and he was gone.

I freed my hand gently, folded his over his chest, and leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Good-bye, Granddad.”

Hyde reached for the call bell and pressed it, and then he held me as we waited together for the nurse to come in.

**

Granddad’s funeral was strictly for family: his daughters and son and their spouses and children, my brother Geoff and his wife Mindy, even Beauchamp, who’d been his butler for years. In a month or so, we’d have a memorial service for the entire city to attend if they chose. After all, Martinsburg had been named for the Martin who’d first come over the mountains and settled here.

We’d returned from the reading of the will, and the only surprise was that Granddad had left Silver Birch and all its contents to me. Geoff had no objection. Granddad had left him shares in the Martin family business as well as other stocks and bonds, and Geoff had Llewellyn Manor, the house we’d grown up in, since Sir, his father, had passed away two days after Hyde and I had left for our honeymoon.

I’d regretted I hadn’t been there for my brother but not that I’d missed the funeral of the man who had made it obvious all my life that he had no use for me.

As for my aunts and uncle…. “Dad left us plenty, Kipp, and it’s only right you have your mother’s share,” Uncle Brad said. “We don’t ever want you in the position where you have to marry the first billionaire who comes along and asks you.”

I couldn’t help grinning at him. “Already did that, Uncle Brad.”

“Humph. When is your baby due?”

“The second or third week in April.”

“All right, we’ll be back then.” He was in the army, as my father had been, and I hoped he’d be able to get leave.

“Thank you.”

“It’s been a while since we’ve had a new baby in this family,” Aunt Charlotte said, and she and Aunt Louise kissed my cheek and then hugged Hyde. “You’ll let us give you a baby shower, I hope.”

“Whatever you like, Aunt Charlotte.”

“Smart boy. Beth would have been so proud of you.”

“The buffet has been set up in the small dining room. Why don’t you go and help yourselves?”

Uncle Brad squeezed my shoulder, and the family dispersed to sample the amazing array of food that had been prepared by Mrs. Wales, Geoff’s cook, who he’d kindly let me borrow.

**

Everyone had finally retired to the rooms they had used as children—they’d leave in the morning—and Geoff and Mindy had gone home.

I sprawled on the couch in the downstairs parlor, sipping one of Granddad’s excellent brandies, a Marquis de Montdidier VSOP, while Hyde sat beside me, nursing his own. It had been a rough week, and as soon as I got myself together, we’d go up to bed ourselves in the room that had been mine.

A tap on the door frame caused Hyde to glance around. “Yes, Beauchamp?”

“I thought I should take this opportunity to give you this.” He approached me and held out a cedar box that was five inches by eight by four. “It’s Miss Beth’s keepsake box. Mr. Martin wanted Kipp to have it after the will was read.”

“What does it contain?” I asked as I took the box. I knew it had once held the ring I’d placed on my husband’s finger all three times we’d exchanged vows: the first in Granddad’s Hospice room, the second at city hall, and the third a few days later, before our friends and family.

“Why after the will was read?” Hyde sounded concerned.

“A key. And I’m sure I couldn’t say, sir.”

I raised the lid and looked in as the scent of cedar rose from it. Sure enough, on the faded velvet that lined the box was a key to a safe deposit box. I took it out and studied the tag attached to it. “First Federal Bank of Cadwalader?”

“It’s a very small town about a hundred miles west of King of Prussia,” Hyde said.

“You’re familiar with it?” What was I saying? Of course he was familiar with it.

“I think we’re taking a road trip.”

I stared at him. “But that contract…?”

“Armitage can deal with it.”

Yes, she could. She was Hyde’s very excellent personal assistant.

“Beauchamp, if you’ll take the snifters?” Hyde handed them to him. “We’ll have breakfast at eight, please.”

“Very good, sir. I’ll wish you both good night.”

“Good night.” Hyde pulled me to my feet, and I smothered a yawn.

“Good night, Grandfather.” We exchanged grins, because, as it turned out, Marcus Llewellyn wasn’t my father; Beauchamp’s son Kipling was. I didn’t begrudge my mother the measure of happiness she’d found, if only for a short time.

Then I yawned again.

“Come on, blue eyes. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be another long day.”

**

The following morning after breakfast, Hyde drove us to the Martinsburg Airfield, and his—our—private jet flew us to the airport closest to Cadwalader, which happened to be Philadelphia International.

Armitage had reserved a Honda CRV XL for us, so we went to Zone 2 outside baggage claim to pick it up. The drive to Cadwalader was going to take about an hour and a half, and while Hyde drove, I finished up the sketches of the child’s room I planned to submit to my client… my client!… in a week or so when I’d fly out to LA where he was working on his latest movie to meet with him and his wife. And Hyde would be accompanying me, rather than the other way around!

Not that I minded being my husband’s eye candy, but I was looking forward to him being mine.

I realized the car had stopped moving when Hyde touched my shoulder.

“We’re here.”

“We are?” I stared out the SUV’s window.

Hyde was right, the town was small, although miniscule might be a better word for it. It looked like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting of small town America. A single street ran through the center of town and the houses and shops were charmingly picturesque.

He pulled the SUV into an angled parking spot in front of the only bank in town, and we got out and walked in.

The bank president came toward us, positively beaming, and with his hand extended. “Mr. Wyndham, it’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. Miss Armitage called to say you’d be coming to visit our little town. And… and this is your husband? I’m Alfred Katz, but please, call me Alfred, Mr. Llewellyn-Wyndham.”

“Hello.” Since I hadn’t legally changed my name to Beauchamp just yet, I didn’t bother correcting him.

“I… uh… I’m afraid I’ll need to see the paperwork.”

“Of course.” Hyde had contacted everyone who needed to be contacted, and in an amazingly short amount of time I’d received everything that was necessary.

“Thank you.” Mr. Katz took the envelope from Hyde and studied the contents, finally nodding in satisfaction. “And permit me to express my condolences on the loss of your mother, Mr. Llewellyn-Wyndham. She was a lovely woman.”

“You met her?”

“Oh… er….” He led us to the vault. “I didn’t know her personally, of course. I’m not as old as all that. That is to say… My predecessor handled all the transactions. He opened this safe deposit box for her about twenty-two years ago, and set up an account as well to cover all the bank fees.”

“I see.” Although I really didn’t. Why had my mother opened a safe deposit box in Cadwalader of all places?

“I’m actually one of the youngest presidents in this bank’s history,” he announced.

“Congratulations.”

“Yes, I’m quite a catch, if I say so myself.”

Beside me, Hyde was grinding his teeth.

Unaware, Mr. Katz smiled and leafed through the book to Mother’s page. “Here we are. Now, if you’ll sign right here?”

I took the pen and went still. On the line was my mother’s signature, Elizabeth Martin. At one time, she’d stood here, very much alive, and written in this book. I drew in a breath and scribbled my name beneath hers.

“And if you’ll wait here one moment, Mr. Wyndham?”

Hyde growled, and I caught his gaze and raised both eyebrows. I’d never been able to raise just one, although practically everyone else in the world could. It was something I’d gotten from my father’s side of the family, since Grandfather couldn’t do it, and he’d told me neither could Kipling.

Hyde hunched a shoulder and smoothed his expression, as if he hadn’t just been glaring daggers at Mr. Katz’s back, but he made no attempt to follow us into the vault.

Mr. Katz rolled a small stepladder against one wall and set the brake before climbing up. He found box 523, inserted his key, inserted mine, turned them both, and then opened the door and removed the long, narrow box.

He stepped off the ladder, carefully balancing the box. “This way, please.” He led the way out of the vault and started to gesture to a single room to the right of the vault, but Hyde was already there, and he didn’t look too impressed.

“Is this the best you can offer my husband?”

“I’m-I’m sorry, Mr. Wyndham.” Mr. Katz swallowed heavily. “I’m afraid this is the only room we h-have for this use.” He tugged at his collar. “Would you care for anything? I’d be more than happy to send out for coffee or tea.”

“No, we’re fine, Mr. Katz.” I took the safe deposit box from him.

“In that case, I’ll leave you to it. Please let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.” He scurried back to his desk.

“You didn’t have to scare him, Hyde.”

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

“How was he looking at me?”

Hyde frowned at me. “Like you were the cherry on a sundae, and he couldn’t wait to suck you off.”

“Excuse me? You thought I’d let him get in my pants?” I hissed, struggling to keep my voice down.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant….” Hyde pulled me into the room and closed the door. “You’re entirely too unobservant!”

“No, I’m not.” The only furniture in the room was a table and two chairs. Annoyed, I put the box down on the table with a thump. “Hyde, it doesn’t matter to me how anyone other than you looks at me. You’re the most important person in my life.”

I suddenly found myself in his arms.

“I’m sorry, Kipp. He was insinuating I was too old for you, and I just—”

Long minutes drifted by as I explored his mouth, and he explored mine.

“Now let’s get this finished,” he murmured against my lips.

One final kiss to the corner of his mouth, and then I stepped back and raised the lid of the safe deposit box. One by one, I removed the contents and lined them up on the table: a key, a deed, and a map.

I unfolded the deed and scanned the information it contained. “This is for a cabin in the Big Bass Lake region of the Pocono Mountains. It belonged to my great-grandmother, who was also named Elizabeth Martin. She left it to Mother.” I stared at Hyde wide-eyed. “I have a cabin in the mountains! We have a cabin in the mountains!”

“If it comes to that, we also have a cottage by the sea, a penthouse on Park Avenue, a mansion in the Hamptons, and a three-level yacht that can cruise the open ocean. Mi casa es su casa.”

“Yes, Hyde.” I leaned against him and rubbed my cheek against his shoulder. “What were you looking at?”

He had opened the map and was studying it. He pointed out a spot. “We’re going there. We’ll have to backtrack…” He traced the route we would take. “… which will add another hour or so to the drive—your mother didn’t want Llewellyn to know about this cabin.” He folded the map. “Is there anything else in there?”

“No-yes.” I heard something rattling around in the box now that there wasn’t anything to muffle the sound. I tipped it, and a small jeweler’s box slid forward. “I wonder what’s in here.” I took it out, pressed the catch, and blinked as the lid popped up to reveal a ring.

“That must be the ring Kipling Beauchamp gave your mother.”

“It’s beautiful.” It was a more feminine version of the ring I had placed on my husband’s finger. I couldn’t leave it here. I closed the jeweler’s box and put it in my pocket. Then I put the key for the cabin in beside it.

“Give me the deed, Kipp.” He tucked it and the map into his inner jacket pocket while I closed the now-empty safe deposit box.

I held it under my arm, and we left the small room.

“Mr. Katz, we’re done here.”

He hurried back to us, and then he and I went into the vault and locked the box away.

“I… I hope I didn’t overstep any boundaries,” he whispered, obviously uncomfortable. “It’s just… you’re very attractive. And your husband is so—”

“Hyde is so what?” There was ice in my voice. If he dared to say what I thought he’d planned to say, I was going to kick his ass.

“Uh… attractive! You make a lovely couple!” He held out the key, his hand shaking.

I accepted the key and slipped it into my other pocket, and we left the vault. “Thank you for your kindness and your assistance. Good afternoon.”

Hyde was chuckling as we left the bank.

“What?”

“Never let anyone say you’re not a Martin.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I reached down and twined my fingers with his. “Hyde, what do you think we’ll find in the cabin?”

He was silent for a moment, and then gave my fingers a squeeze. “I honestly don’t know. It seems the items your mother felt were most important were in the safe deposit box.”

“Yes, I imagine you’re right.” I sighed. There went my fantasy of us on a treasure hunt, tapping on walls and pulling up floorboards, perhaps finding letters my parents wrote or mementos they gave each other. “I wonder what condition the cabin will be in. Will there be veils of spider webs and mounds of dust?”

“Why would you picture it that way?”

“Well, the last time my mother was there had to have been before I was born. Granddad told me Marcus kept close watch over her after he brought her back to Llewellyn Manor.” She’d run away to be with Kipling Beauchamp, but then they’d learned he was being deployed to Bosnia, and after he left, she’d returned to Martinsburg.

“Considering her careful planning—setting up an account to take care of the bank fees for the safe deposit box—I’m inclined to think she hired someone to care for the grounds and the interior of the cabin. But we’ll see in about three hours.”

“Three hours?”

“That’s roughly how long it will take us to drive to the Poconos from here.”

“Really?” My stomach growled. “Can we have lunch before we go?” As much as I wanted to see my mother’s cabin, I was starving.

“Of course.” Hyde took out his Smartphone, and his fingers danced over the screen. “Ah. The Cadwalader Diner has received very good Yelp reviews. Interesting for such a small town.” He put his phone away and smiled into my eyes. “Will that be all right?”

“That will be fine, Hyde.” I just hoped the cabin was habitable enough to stay in overnight, because it was going to be late when we got there.

He draped his arm across my shoulders, and as we crossed the street and strolled to the diner, I thought of spending winter holidays there, of taking our child… our children… there for summer vacations. I began humming.

And of course it was “Brown Eyed Handsome Man.”

Did you enjoy Tinnean’s story? If so, check out the rest of her books and take 25% off at checkout with the code TinneanFlash. Coupon code is good for one order per customer through February 2, 2015.

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